A Big Difference Between Celsius and Fahrenheit
by leradny
Summary: Mimi is initiated into the family. Roger muses, as the good bohemians do.


**A Big Difference Between Celsius and Fahrenheit**

-

Maureen loves her.

Maureen loves everyone, but even with that it's not hard to see why Mimi jumps all the way to the almost top of the list—they look like each other. Mimi is a softened version of the performer with her slimmer build, darker skin, lighter hair. Also the M names. If it wasn't for that, Roger can bet his guitar that Joanne would have been jealous.

What's surprising is _Joanne's_ reaction to Maureen's adopted little sister. She, for lack of better words, takes a shine to Mimi. Visits from the new couple to the even newer couple are frequent, rivaling the ones from Angel and Collins. They end up switching off, Joanne and Maureen coming in the evenings when all the lawyer work is taken care of, with Angel and Collins arriving in the morning true to the Bohemian lifestyle.

One day, timing be damned, Joanne decides to teach Mimi how to make pancakes. She carts over a grocery bag full of ingredients and leaves it there when the lesson is finished. "We're rubbing off on her," Roger remarks between deliriously sweet bites of their dinner-breakfast. Mimi shrugs, slathering more syrup onto her plate and dipping the dry bottom of her stack into the puddle like a sponge.

"Mm, I haven't had pancakes in so long." Mimi's mouth is full and she swallows with difficulty. Roger guesses it isn't just the hunger or the taste of AZT talking, since half the bottle is already gone. "These taste different, though."

He thinks about making a quip about how she's grown up, but she might not know about the slide perception: how things seem bigger and brighter and more tasty when people are younger. By the time he finished explaining, all humor would be lost. "Most things do when you use our stove." The smoke seeps into the food, almost like camping—which is why they have two piles of fuel in the corner. One for food, usually charcoal, and one for warmth.

"You're running out of wood," Mimi says. "Where do you get it?"

Roger recalls trekking through the park picking up dry branches from various trees, with Mark holding the camera over his shoulder under the logic that most people wouldn't give them a second glance if it looked like he was filming. (Mark had been right.) They used to do it at night, but Roger was usually exhausted by then so it shifted to mornings. Maureen, when she lived with them, would attract attention as easily as she breathed, singing, "I am going to pick _the hell_ out of that branch! And _that_ one! And that one…"

Collins just bought wood and coal, but if he was between jobs he would cover for Roger at night anyway to stretch the budget. Benny was all right at first, until he started buying _actual_ firewood with his _actual_ job-money. April… had been like Maureen when she was high, and sulked like Roger when she was not. Roger decides that it's high time that Mimi was brought into the family.

After breakfast he takes her, and the paper grocery bag, to the park. The air is chilly and cuts into their lungs, but they are full and warmly dressed so they don't worry much. When they take their AZT during a quick break, Mimi spots a patch of daisies and braids some into her hair. She can't reach the back of her head, or any hair above her ears, so she casts around for something to do with her remaining handful besides throwing them to the ground without mercy.

Her gaze lingers on Roger and his shoulder-length blond locks a little too long. He scowls. "Don't you dare, Mimi."

She tucks one into his scarf instead. The thought resounds through his head as he smiles unconsciously—April would have done it anyway—and though he feels he should turn his head away and stop smiling, at least for a second… he can't.

"I _knew_ you had a good one trapped in there. Who doesn't smile over pancakes?"

-

Whenever Mimi can't drag Roger out on the town and gives up, she spends a lot of time over at his apartment. Whenever Roger can't stand the sight of his guitar or the empty sheets of paper anymore, he knocks on Mimi's door and usually finds her in. Then she drags him out at once, delighted at his lack of resistance. It's not unusual for her to work late, though, like tonight. On these nights, even though Mimi has nothing that thieves would be interested in stealing and doesn't lock her door, Roger can't find it in him to go in unannounced so he just goes home to wait.

Some days he falls asleep on the couch and finds Mimi curled into his chest. Others, he doesn't, and their evening goes as planned. This time, Roger hears a knock at the door, puts his guitar down quietly, and pretends to be asleep. Just to see what she'll do.

Mimi looks in when there isn't an answer, then pads across the room and takes off her boots. She is exhausted tonight, and shaking so hard that the clatter when she finally kicks them aside would have woken Roger if he'd actually been asleep. But she tucks her arm under his without even looking at his face, and takes deeper breaths than normal for a few minutes until the shivering quiets suddenly.

"Mimi?" he asks, pretending to wake up. The coals burn down quietly in the corner, glowing through cracks that are invisible by day. No movement prompts a rare quip: "Mark? Are you drunk and vulnerable again?"

But she's out like a light. And despite the warmth from the stove that makes it easy to sleep in here without a blanket, she had been shivering anyway. Roger makes notes to get a new blanket just in case it's honest cold shivers, and also to remember that line before he dozes off.

The next time Mimi isn't in, Roger can't bring himself to feign sleep so he just looks up and smiles at her knock. (Odd how things change; even six months ago he would have done the opposite, with a great deal more sulking.) Their evening goes as planned, until Mark bursts in. "Good evening, lovebirds!" the filmmaker announces. "How's the mating song going, Rog?"

Roger scowls and feels like throwing something, then changes his mind. "Hey Mimi, did I ever tell you about the time when Mark was drunk and vulnerable—"

"Roger, no."

"And cried himself to sleep on the couch—"

"_No!_"

"While I was still on it?"

"No," Mimi laughs. "Tell me more!"

-

It is inevitable. He will have to open the door sooner or later.

Roger knows it, even though he's only been through this once, with April. But it isn't any easier when he does open the door, and catches only a glimpse of Mimi's arm before jerking his head away. He wants to call Mark—Collins—anyone, even that _Benny_—but it would take too long for them to get here and by that time the damage will have already been done…

"Roger, we've had sex. And other times than tonight, too. You can look at me."

"But—" His voice squeaks. After forcing his voice down to a more manly octave, he asks, "Don't you feel degraded or something?" She glares at him, not bothering to cross her arms over her chest or grab a towel or anything—a clear symbol of her (ahem) occupation. "Oh, right. You're used to it."

"You didn't _tell_ me your hot water was off!" she accuses him, brandishing the sponge like a bayonet. Out of all the things in the kitchen that she could have picked up instead, Roger is thankful she didn't think to let go of the sponge.

"I forgot," he protests feebly. The ear-piercing shriek had reminded him too late why he had always told Mimi that she couldn't take a bath at his place. Either they didn't have any soap, or her apartment was only one floor down, or she didn't smell bad, or… "And, well—"

"What?"

"The way me and Mark do it, we just… uh."

"_What?_" It is frightening how she doesn't even hear the innuendo. Also how she can express the verbal equivalent of raising her hackles.

"We heat up buckets of water and sponge bathe."

They always have boiled water somewhere in a corner: for bathing, drinking (better safe than sorry with an HIV positive person in the house), ramen. But both buckets have long since gone cold, which is bad; Mimi had filled the tub with both of them, which is worse; and from the looks of it she had re-filled the buckets expecting hot water from the sink, which is _depressing_.

"Um. You might want to put your clothes back on." She throws the sodden sponge at him and stalks out, muttering awful sounding things while she grabs her clothes. "I'm sorry?" he calls after her. No answer.

Mark appears after a few minutes, probably hiding out in the hallway until Mimi had stormed out. "Interesting fight you two must have had, huh?"

"_Nnh._"

"Seeing as Mimi was dressing as she fumed and dripping wet. But close up on Roger's clothes and hair, which are noticeably dry! If a bit grimy."

"I forgot to tell her about the shower."

"Ahh… Sorry, Rog." Mark gives him a pat on the shoulder. Roger sighs inwardly and braces himself for a barrage of cold-related puns, like what happened with April. "Hell hath no fury like a woman who's stepped into a cold shower at her boyfriend's place. Good luck convincing her it wasn't a cruel joke."

Roger wonders why there wasn't a hint of bad wordplay, then decides not to test his luck. They go about the task of re-filling one bucket and setting it to heat by the stove, which is easy, and emptying the tub with the other, which is hard. "Mark?" he asks, after dumping more used bathwater down the sink and glumly watching it swirl away.

"Yes, _mon ami_?"

"Why didn't Mimi _test_ the water before getting naked and climbing into the tub?"

"I don't know. Maybe you attract that kind of girl."

-

After Mimi has forgiven him for the shower thing and starts pelting puns at him with Mark over breakfast, Angel and Collins are confused and ask what the hell is going on. Roger's attempts to conceal it are futile when Mimi dodges away and doubles his torture. "It was an _accident!_ I forgot how regular people take showers, is all!"

"Honey, you forgot what it was like to take a shower at _all_," Angel says. "Poor things. Taking sponge baths with water heated over their illegal wood-burning stove and then calling it a shower. You _might_ say—"

"Don't."

"But—"

"One more pun and I will _slaughter_ you all!" Roger bellows.

"Hey man, cool off," Collins says. Then, when he realizes his betrayel, he starts laughing. "Oh, wait!"

Roger decides not to try yelling over the laughter of four other people, and settles for the most intense scowl he can think of. Angel insists that his face will _freeze_ like that before finishing breakfast and leaving with Collins. Mark grins as Mimi attempts to prod Roger out of his anger-induced stupor, then says something about giving them the _cold shoulder_ before taking up his camera and leaving. After a good fifteen minutes of silence, Mimi finally rolls her eyes and goes out herself.

Roger plucks at a few notes on his guitar for a while, then decides to work on lyrics when the older-than-dirt A string snaps. Several hours and eight pages of bull later, Mimi knocks and comes back in. "Hi, Roger." He makes a non-committal sound which he hopes will convey his anger. "So, about your shower—" he glares and she corrects herself, "No puns! No more puns, I promise. Even though I thought of a really good one on the way here… _Promise!_"

"All right." Roger tosses aside the piece of charcoal he'd been using in an attempt to shake up his routine. It had only resulted in smudgy, even more illegible handwriting. "What about my shower?"

"You know, I've never had a sponge bath before." Despite the ridiculous amounts of sexual tension this sentence can dredge up, levels which he knows from experience, he can only hear a hesitant curiosity in Mimi's voice. "What's it like?"

_Long, tedious, and boring. Are you __**really**__ asking me how to—_

Teaching a woman to sponge bathe is about the most unnecessary activity on the planet, along with using charcoal to write when one has perfectly good pens and pencils. But before he knows it Roger finds himself hauling a bucket of water over to the stove and bringing up the heat.


End file.
